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“Tom.”
Up came his head. “Jesus.” It came out a whisper, and she had the impression he wasn’t aware he’d said it. She turned in a circle and he cleared his throat and his hands opened out to her. She took two steps forward and his fingers grazed the backs of her knees. “That’s, ah, pretty.”
His eyes were all lit up, and his palms cradled the backs of her thighs. She wasn’t jumpy anymore. “I’m glad you like it.”
“More than like it.” He put his face straight to her belly and his hands shifted to her ass, thumbs tucking under the elasticized lace. “You look like a dream in this.”
“There are two more to show you.”
“I’m not finished with this one.” He brushed the back of his hand over her nipple. “When would you wear this?”
Anytime I wanted to have fun with you. There wasn’t a lot of time left.
“To bed.”
“With me.”
She put her hand to his cheek. “With you.” It was going to take some time before she wanted to wear it for someone else.
“Not sure of the point. It’s lovely, but it wouldn’t be on you for long.”
“The point is me feeling sexy in it.”
He did the thing with the back of his hand again and then cupped her breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over her. “Does it make you feel sexy?”
Impossible not to feel desirable, and that had nothing to do with the babydoll’s fabric, style or color and everything to do with the way he touched her, looked at her. “Yes.”
“And then the point of it is me wanting to take it off you.”
“Built-in versatility.”
“I’m beginning to understand.”
Maybe Wren was wrong. Maybe this connection they had was strong enough that Tom would want it to go on, despite distances. Why didn’t she trust that?
He pulled her in for a kiss and then let her go. Beyoncé was singing “Drunk in Love” when she stepped out from the screen in the robe and the black lace teddy. It fitted like the most risqué swimsuit. It was made of floral lace with inserts of fishnet over the hips. It was nipped in at the waist with a satin band and the demi-cup bra had satin piping and straps. There was almost as much of her breasts out of the cups as in, but otherwise it was tasteful, with enough ass coverage to make her feel confident.
“Ditch the robe,” he said. In-control Tom had replaced uncomfortable Tom. It made her stomach flip with excitement.
She ditched the robe, letting it slide off her shoulders to the floor, and turned around so he could see the cutout of a heart over her back.
He was off the lounge and had her in his arms before she could finish her turn. She didn’t need to worry how he felt, she had all the evidence of his arousal she needed. He pulled on the messy bun of her hair till she rested her head on his chest, his hands skimming her body carefully. “This shou
ld come with a hazard warning.”
She wound her arms up over his neck and they kissed until he groaned and stepped away, rubbing his face. “Go put some more clothes on before I compromise your safety.” He scooped the robe off the floor and held it out to her.
She took it out of his hand and disappeared behind the screen for her last change. The underwear she’d chosen was pretty rather than overtly sexy, but she paired it with a suspender belt and thigh-high stockings and took her hair down, and she liked what she saw, the effect innocent by way of please debauch me.
Tom clamped his teeth on his knuckle when she stepped out from the screen to Ciara’s “Ride.” They’d hit the raunch portion of the session. He was on the lounge, that wide-legged position men with long legs did, that let her walk between his knees and put her hand in his hair to pull his head back.
“Deadly weapon,” he said before she kissed him, bent forward, openmouthed and needy, the slow rock beat perfect for the way she felt as he pulled her closer and she went to her knees. Tom pushed the robe off her shoulders, the slither of the silk down her back making her shiver, the scent of him, his big hands on her, everything about this making it impossible not to vibrate with want. Would he let her blow him?
She reached for his belt and he let go a delicious groan; she almost whooped for the joy of it.
“Here?” he rasped, but he didn’t stop her hands massaging him through his briefs, tugging at them to put her mouth to the head of his penis. “Ah, Flick.”
She sucked, and he took a fistful of her hair, at first to keep her there, but as she started to taste him, to pull her away. “We can’t,” he said, voice so cut with want she almost fought him for control.
